The mysterious Mr Baker

You know how it is – the photo album full of photos and no names. But how about this? A named photograph, of a Mr Baker (yes, great, it matches the family name) but which one? There seemed to be none who fit. Or perhaps there is...



According to a very useful website I learned about recently called photolondon.org.uk , this photo was taken in 1865, when the photographic company who printed it were in operation at the address cited on the back.

Assuming the photograph was taken around the same time as it was printed, it should be easy enough to identify him. But therein lies a problem. I find it extremely difficult with old photos to guess ages accurately.

Apparently, I'm not alone. From the response I've had asking other family historians, it seems we tend to see our ancestors in photographs as being much older than they really are, so, at my estimate of around 40 years, I could be way off the mark.

As soon as I realised that, I got quite excited as it may mean that, perhaps, I can match him to someone on the tree, after all.

Mystery document

You'll notice that the gentleman in question is holding some sort of book or major document in his hand.  Has the photograph has been taken to mark the occasion of the document's publication, perhaps? But what could it be?

I decided to enlist the help of my fellow family historians on Twitter and amongst the responses, I received two surprises.

Firstly, the general consensus was that Mr Baker was younger than my estimate and so could conceivably be the man I hoped. And the other was the comment that he looked like a "typical Victorian composer" and suggesting that the document was a music score.

That was music to my ears (ouch! sorry...) as my hope was that this was a photograph of Charles Gabriel Baker, the professor of music who travelled to Australia but sadly died of consumption, aged only 32 (read the article I wrote for Family Tree magazine about his story HERE).

Teacher training

It seemed as good a prompt as any to explore more about his journey to becoming a music professor. Where had he learned his profession? Having been born in Marylebone, could it have been at one of the prestigious music colleges in London?

I knew Charles had begun his teaching career as a pupil teacher, as he's listed as such on the 1851 census. By the time of his marriage to Susan Sawyer in 1856, he's a fully fledged school teacher and by 1861, he's calling himself a professor of music. So what about the years in between being a pupil teacher and working as a teacher when he got married?

I made enquiries of the Royal Academy of Music, in Marylebone and the library assistant kindly checked her records but found nothing. She did explain, however, that the terminology of "professor" could be used quite freely and may be just another interpretation of "teacher." She suggested that I contact the Royal College of Music to see if my man attended there.

A fantastic find

But I never got that far, because on a whim, I googled Charles Gabriel Baker and to my astonishment, I found his name in a book published by The National Society – what a find!

The National Society was established in 1811 to promote, "the Education of the Poor in the Principles of the Established Church in England and Wales" resulting in the setting up of the well known National Schools across the country.

St Mark's College, Chelsea

Naturally, this endeavour required school teachers and so the society purchased Stanley House on the King's Road in Chelsea and founded St Mark's College for teacher training in 1841, which would later merge with St John's college in 1923 and move to Plymouth in the 1970s (now known as Plymouth Marjon).


Charles was one of their trainee teachers and the book I'd stumbled across was their publication listing examination results of the year 1854, when Charles was in his second year. It doesn't look as though he was an A1 student, though, as his name appears under the list entitled, Third Class. 

Students joined the college between the ages of 15 to 17 and if they passed their three month probation, they began their teacher training apprenticeship. Training took three years and, as well as the religious side of  college life – the core of The National Society's ethos – a diverse range of topics were covered, in addition to general education, such as the industrial system, the business of male servants in the house, managing the farm produce, and gardening. So, no mention of music. Perhaps Charles's music talents were already established via some other influence or had yet to be discovered?

Poignant

It was fascinating to add more to Charles's story, even though we know that fate was to deal him a cruel blow and that his teaching career, and indeed his life, would be cut short.

It would be lovely to think that the photograph really is of him. He looks like a friendly soul, don't you think? And that document – could it be a piece of music? He certainly looks very proud of it! Perhaps it will be one of those things we'll never find out.

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Maybe you have ancestors who trained at St Mark's college, Chelsea. You can check in The National Society's Forty-Third Annual report, 1854

You can find out more about the National Society HERE

Secrets revealed by tragedy

E. Ernest Baker born 1861

As is often the case in family history, as you dig around to clarify one set of facts, you stumble upon something totally unexpected, leading you down a completely new route of enquiry. So it's proved while trying to establish what happened to the two elder sons of Charles Gabriel Baker who died so tragically in Australia in 1868.

If you've read the sad story (and if you haven't, click HERE to download the article in Family Tree Magazine), you'll know that when Charles's widow, Susan, returned home to England, their four sons were separated. Of the four, the two younger brothers kept in touch but the two elder brothers, Alfred and Ernest, seemed to vanish from the records.

Discovered!

However recently I was contacted by Kelli, a descendant of the elder brother, (Charles) Alfred, and it emerged that both brothers ended up in Australia. My post Another mystery unravelled, told Alfred's story. This post was to tell of Ernest's fate but the story has turned out to be more intriguing than it first appeared. I'm indebted to Kelli for her help in unpicking the threads of what happened.

Early years

Let's go back to the beginning. Ernest was born in London and baptised at St Stephen's in Hampstead, as Edward Ernest (pay attention – you'll need to remember this bit as we go along). When his father died in 1868 Ernest was sent to the London Orphan Asylum in Clapton. It was at this point that I lost track of him but Kelli explained that in 1880, at the age of 18, he had accompanied his brother, Alfred, to Australia as crew members aboard the Durham. This explained why they'd not appeared on the 1881 UK census.

A new life in Australia

By 1884, Ernest had married Mary Wallace in Essenden, Victoria. The marriage index lists him by his full name, Edward Ernest Baker but interestingly he seems also to have added Morris for good measure, his younger brother's middle name. A tinge of home sickness, perhaps? 

Sadly, Mary died only a year later. On her gravestone, she's remembered as Mary (nee Polly Wallace) Baker, dearly beloved wife of E. Ernest M. Baker.

A year after Mary's death, in 1886, Ernest married again, to Catherine Isabella Stewart. This time the records show his name the other way around, as Ernest Edward Morris Baker, reverting to Ernest as his first name, as he'd always been known within the family. The couple went on to have a son, George Norman, born in 1887.

Accidental death

It isn't until the discovery of Ernest's untimely death 28 years later that it becomes clear that Ernest's life up until that point hadn't taken the path one might have imagined. But before I get on to that, let me explain what happened to poor Ernest in October 1914. 

It was while on a fishing trip with friends at Berembed Weir in New South Wales, on the Murrumbridgee River, when disaster struck. Ernest went into the river to recover an oar but slipped and fell into deep water. He became entangled in his clothing and despite being a strong swimmer, he sadly drowned. His body was recovered a few days later and a subsequent inquest recorded his death as accidental. 

Newspaper reports

In the press at the time, it was mentioned that Ernest (referred to as Mr E E Baker) was a widower, of several years. But on further investigation, it was clear that his wife, Catherine, nee Stewart, was still very much alive. So what had happened? 

His death certificate showed that his "wife" was not Catherine but Georgina Lindsay. While no record has been found of their marriage (Georgina was widowed in 1885, having previously been Mrs George Whaley Miller) her death was recorded as Georgina Baker and she'd died in 1907. Other sections of Ernest's death certificate, such as parents' names and previous marriage, were filled in as "unknown". Whoever provided the information to the registrar genuinely didn't know or was keeping schtum about Ernest's past! 

Dishonour

Further delving into the archives revealed that in 1901, Ernest, an Insurance Agent at the time, was gaoled for 6 months for embezzlement. Had this dishonourable behaviour resulted in Ernest and his second wife separating? Apparently not. Ernest and Georgina were already together by then, having had three sons before this date, Sydney in 1890, Harry in 1893 and Frank in 1897 – Harry and Frank obviously named after Ernest's younger siblings. 

Other newspaper reports tell of Ernest being sent to court for obtaining money by false pretences (writing a cheque which bounced) and on another occasion, an Edward Ernest Baker (note the name order – could this also be our man?) being accused of stealing a bottle of whisky from a hotel bar, which subsequently turned up hidden in a nearby culvert – though, it appears, not before Edward/Ernest spent a Saturday night in the local police cell!

Occupations

Ernest is recorded on the electoral roll of 1913 as being a journalist. We know he was an insurance agent in 1901 and the newspapers at the time of his death refer to him as an accountant. His death certificate states he was a labourer! He clearly had both a checkered life and a varied career.

I suspect there's still a lot more to unravel about the life of Edward Ernest Morris Baker. What did he do in England before he travelled to Australia? What happened between him and his second wife, Catherine? Was he really ever a journalist? Did he maintain contact with his family back in the UK? 

While there are some things we may yet discover, there are probably other questions for which we'll never know the answers. But, as ever, it's always fascinating following the trail.

Another mystery unravelled

Sometimes it takes a long time to uncover a mystery and it's always a thrill to finally discover the truth, especially when it's been something you've wondered about for many years.

During our research for Charles Gabriel Baker's fateful trip to Australia in 1867 with his wife Susan (nee Sawyer), ending in his death six months later, we discovered that on Susan's return to England, the couple's four sons were separated.

While Frank, the youngest, at only 3 years old, stayed with his mother, the others were sent to different orphanages and schools. (Read the tragic story in my article A Death Down Under, published in Family Tree Magazine in May 2016.)

Missing brothers

By 1881 the two youngest brothers, Frank and Harry Morris (aged 5 when his father died), had been reunited and were living with their mother. But I could find no record of Edward and Alfred on the census. What had happened to them?

The last piece of information I had was that Alfred (full name, Charles Alfred), had left school in 1873, aged 15, to join the navy. My blog post Lost at Sea? considered what his life might have been like on board at this time and I speculated as to whether he'd disappeared under the waves.

Then a couple of months ago, I was contacted by an Australian lady through this blog. I was delighted to learn that she was a descendant of Charles Alfred Baker. She'd been unaware that Charles Gabriel and Susan had come to Australia and was intrigued to hear their story. In return she was able to pass on what she'd researched about Charles Alfred and his brother, Edward.

Alfred in the navy

As I'd discovered all those years ago, Alfred joined the navy on the training ship St Vincent in October 1873. His service record, which I've accessed recently, lists each ship on which he served.

It also describes his appearance – 5 foot 5¾ inches high, brown hair, blue eyes, fair complexion and with a scar on his right wrist.

(Prior to joining the navy, Alfred spent a period of time as a shoemaker – and not a very good one, judging by the comments we found in the records. Perhaps he sustained the injury to his wrist with one of his work tools!)

Remarks on his naval records about his character range from 'very good' and even 'exemplary'  – until, that is, the very last entry when he's serving on HMS Penguin.

Here the assessment is only 'Fair' and in the next column, labelled If Discharged. Wither and for what

HMS Penguin
(courtesy of wikimedia.org)

cause, is written the word 'Run' and 'Rio de Janeiro.'

Deserter

So it seems, that after four years service, Alfred decided he'd had enough of naval life and jumped ship in Brazil.

Given his past excellent record, I wonder what happened to change his mind and take such a drastic step. Desertion was an extremely serious offence and those found guilty were subject to court martial and potentially a death sentence.

Tellingly, his name appears on a list published in London's Police Gazette in March 1878, under the heading, DESERTERS FROM THE MILITARY. 

But Alfred clearly didn't intend to hang around waiting to be picked up by the authorities. If indeed he did abscond in Rio de Janeiro, he somehow made his way back to England and tracked down his brother Edward, as two years later, both of them are recorded as crew members of a ship called the Durham, travelling to Sydney in March 1880.

Crew & passenger list for the Durham

New life

A year after arriving in Australia, Alfred married Charlotte Neil in Adelaide, and went on to have 5 children.

As for his brother Edward – well... his story, one with a tragic end I'm sorry to say, will be the subject of my next post.

A year of intrigue... and news for Esme fans

Another year over and what have you done... to paraphrase John Lennon's famous Christmas song. Indeed! Looking back, it's been quite a year in my family history research.

Shocking discovery

It began back in January when I stumbled upon what turned out to be a shocking story about my 3x great-grandparents and "The Other Woman".

The truth of the matter was revealed to the world through local newspapers, when Thomas Shelley and his "housekeeper" were dragged before magistrates in Eccleshall on a charge of Cruelty and Assault on my 3 x Great-grandmother, Bessie Shelley.

If you've not read the disgraceful tale, you'll find the details of the case and the tragic outcome for Bessie, on the posts, A Family Secret - the Shocking Truth Part 1, Part 2 and the follow-up stories, Assault and Cruelty - the Perpetrator and Assault and Cruelty - the Victim.

Secrets in print

Then in April, the tragic story of my husband's ancestor, Charles Gabriel Baker, and his fatal journey to Australia in 1868, was published in Family Tree Magazine. (You can read the article on the News page of my website.)

I've since discovered a little more to add to the story, after a descendant of Charles' sons contacted me. I'd lost track of them during my research about Charles and she was able to fill me in with the missing pieces. But more of that next year in a future post. (Warning: have your hankies at the ready!)

Sad loss

Sadly, in May, my dear Dad died, aged 87 and I had the task of preparing the eulogy at his funeral. A childhood accident when he was 7 would prove to have serious consequences. Not only did he have to spend 3 years in hospital, but it left him with a disability which affected his whole life. Not that it stopped him doing very much, mind you, as you can read in my post, Preserving the Mysteries.  And 2017 will continue to be a case of preserving the mysteries as I begin the mammoth taks of scanning in all his photographs, many in 35 mm slide form, of his early adult life as well as lots of me and my sister growing up.

Secrets revealed

The on-going mystery of my Great aunt Annie, Mary Ann Diggory, gave up a few of its secrets later in the year, when I discovered that, despite what we'd always been led to believe,

there had been at least one relative who maintained contact with Annie (possibly furtively) after she walked out of the family home in 1904, aged 16. (See June's post - The Mystery of Mary Ann for the background to the tale).

It seems that Annie's aunt Mary (sister to Annie's mother) took Annie in to her own home at some point after Annie became a nurse. Despite Mary's intervention, however, Annie maintained her estrangement from the rest of the family, even after Mary died, as you can read in The Mystery of Mary Ann - Secrets and Lies. My search continues for clues as to why she left home in the first place.

Looking ahead

So with a new year of research ahead, I've plenty of interesting secrets to unravel. The unnamed photographs below, for a start! 

 New Year's Resolutions

This is also the time, of course, when we make those New Year Resolutions and one of mine (of the family history variety, anyway) is to try and be more systematic with my research. Mind you, that's all very well until something unexpected lands in my Inbox or a new database is released on Ancestry, sending me off down a path I'd never intended to go! But then, that's half the fun, isn't it?

So to end this post, and the year, I wish you all a very

MERRY CHRISTMAS 

....and may 2017 be filled with intriguing and fascinating stories as a result of your family history endeavours.

See you next year!

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NEWS...NEWS...NEWS...NEWS...NEWS...NEWS...NEWS...

For those of you who enjoy reading my Esme Quentin mysteries, I have exciting news....

Coming soon.....

(and to keep you going until the third full length Esme mystery comes out next year)

Death of a Cuckoo

a short novel featuring Esme Quentin 

to be published in early 2017 by sBooks, a new imprint of SilverWood Books.

Click HERE to find out about sBooks.

More information about Death of a Cuckoo will be available shortly.

To be kept updated, sign up for my NEWSLETTER.

Secrets in print!

As you know if you've been reading this blog for a while, my initiation into family history was the discovery of an Australian death certificate for my husband's ancestor, Charles Gabriel Baker.

I've mentioned him and his sad story in one or two blog posts in the past, but recently I decided to gather all the information I'd collated and write an article about the long trail I followed to uncover the truth about what happened to Charles and his family.

Having completed the tale, I decided to submit it to Family Tree Magazine and I was delighted when they accepted it for publication.

So, I'm thrilled to announce that the article appears in May's issue of the magazine,

which is out now!

Here's a taster of the first page of my article, beautifully presented by the editing team across 4 pages.

If you'd like a copy of the magazine to hold in your hot, sticky hands, WH Smiths stores generally stock it, or you can download an e-version direct from Family Tree Magazine's own website.

Otherwise, you can learn something about Charles Baker's story from these previous posts:

1. About the amazing information on his death certificate in Death and its secrets
2. How he met his wife, Susan Sawyer, in Romance in the Records
3. Speculation as to why he went to Australia in Ancestors in the Spotlight

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So what's next...

Having concluded my 4 part story of The Shocking Truth about my wayward ancestor Thomas Shelley and his housekeepr, I've now got to decide what's the next family secret to uncover and share with you in future posts! Mmmmm..... let me see....

Romance in the records

photo courtesy of riptheskull (flickr)

The story of how couples met and fell in love is an appealing one. My parents met at a Wolverhampton dance hall when my father asked my mother to dance.

My husband's parents met on a flag day, when they were both standing outside Westminster Abbey, collecting for Great Ormond Street Hospital.

My maternal grandparents met while treading the boards across the country [see Strictly Music Hall].

For our ancestors further back, although we can't always know the details, information in the records may give us a clue to the story behind how couples came to know one another.

My great-grandfather Thomas Diggory was a groom living in Frodesley, Shropshire on the 1881 census. At the rectory, Richard Gleadon the rector had in his employ, a cook called Eliza Roberts, my great-grandmother. She and Thomas would marry 5 years later.

Thomas James Diggory b 1857

As I discovered last week [Great Witley Gives Up its Secrets], my great-great grandmother, Eleanor Williams's future husband James Hick, was the lodger!

While tracking Susan Sawyer, wife of the unfortunate Charles Gabriel Baker [Ancestors in the Spotlight] I found her on the 1851 census, aged 18, working as a milliner in James Smith's establishment in 58-59 South Audley Street, Mayfair. Amongst the other 30 milliners, drapers, haberdashers and silk mercers, also residents of 58-59 South Audley Street, was another milliner called Ellen J Baker.

Ellen Jane Baker was Charles Baker's sister. At first I thought it likely that Susan met Charles through her fellow worker. Perhaps the two girls were friends? Perhaps Charles visited his sister in London?

But Ellen was 4 years older than Susan, 7 years older than Charles, who would have been only 15 in 1851. Later that year, Ellen married Thomas Moxon and so would have no longer worked and lived alongside Susan. If they had been friends, perhaps she was invited to the wedding and met Charles there!

But one fascinating find concerning matters of the heart came to light on the 1881 census in Lambeth. It concerns the infamous black sheep in my family called Edward Henry Coules Colley who vanished from the family home some time after 1881 "never to be heard of again". In my post, Ancestors in the Spotlight, I revealed that he had run away to Australia in 1887 with a certain Elizabeth Woolf, who he eventually married (bigamously, I believe) in 1906, after fathering 8 children.

However, it seems that the passionate affair was not a recent liaison but had started several years before. Elizabeth had given birth to a boy, Leon, in 1876. Edward's wife Frances, had had daughter Maud in the same year. In 1880, Frances gave birth to Nelly, and Elizabeth to Albert.

By the time the 1881 census was taken, while Edward was still living with his wife, Frances in one part of Lambeth, Elizabeth was living at her uncle's house a few streets away and calling herself Mrs Colley.

Abandoned wife Frances Colley (nee Ellisdon)

By the time Edward and Elizabeth sailed to the Antipodes, their son Reuben had been born in 1882 and their daughter Violet in 1884.

I wonder how long Edward intended to maintain this 'double life'. Did he finally decide it was time to leave or did Frances discover his adultery and throw him out? And when? In 1887 when they left for Australia? Or before? As always, one disclosure merely leads to another question...

Death and its secrets

Death certificates are often overlooked by family historians. Once a death is identified in the index, its mere existence giving the where and when, is usually sufficient in its own right.

But the death certificate can reveal useful information and this was never more apparent than when I discovered a real gem in the aforementioned "box of old documents in the attic".

In 1868 in England and Wales, the facts to be found on a death certificate would be:

• name, age, sex and occupation of the deceased
• address at which he or she died
• cause of death
• date of death and of its registration
• name and address of the informant

The discovery of an Australian death certificate, issued in the district of Paddington, New South Wales in 1868, amongst our treasure, however, as well as being a complete surprise, (no one in the family had ever hinted that an ancestor had travelled to Australia, never mind lived there for a period of time) revealed considerably more than any death certificate had it been issued in England.

As we deciphered the copperplate handwriting on the folded piece of paper, a sad story unfolded.

Charles Gabriel BAKER, aged 32 and born in London, England, was a music teacher. He'd arrived in the Australian colony 6 months before, in November 1867, but for the past 2 years had been suffering from a chronic lung disease. Sadly, on 15th May 1868, while living in Vernan Street, Woollahra, near Waverley, his condition finally killed him. His death was confirmed by C. Muller, the medical attendant who had seen him last on 3rd January that same year.

Charles had  been 21 years of age when he married his wife Susan, nee Sawyer, in Essex, England . The couple had had 6 children; 4 boys were still alive but a boy and a girl had since died. Charles's father was Gabriel Baker, a valet, and his mother was Jane, nee Vyner.

Charles was buried at Haslam Creek  on 17th May 1868, the undertaker being C Kinsella and Son. His burial was witnessed by Henry Kinsella and Henry Abbott and Reverend Young, a Church of England minister, had performed the funeral.

Henry Gale, registrar, confirmed the document to be a true copy of the register of deaths in his office, signed it and dated it 10th June 1868.
  

How much more we family historians would learn about our ancestors if UK death certificates had been as thorough!